


Her First Date

by jooliewrites



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Coliver, Nervous Fathers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you really going to stay up waiting for her?” Oliver asks, leaning a hip on the doorframe and crossing his arms.</p>
<p>“No.” Connor lifts the remote to pause the TV and puts on his best guileless expression. “I just really want to finish this.”</p>
<p>Connor says nothing when Oliver gently reaches over to take the remote from his hands to turn off the TV and take Connor’s hand in his. Oliver’s tone is gentle and understanding when he says, “I don’t like it either.”</p>
<p>Connor squeezes Oliver’s hand. “When did she grow up?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“Remember when we brought her home?” Oliver just nods. “She was so little. Do you remember how little?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her First Date

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr.  
> Hope you enjoy,  
> -Jules xoxo

“Are you really going to stay up waiting for her?” Oliver asks, leaning a hip on the doorframe and crossing his arms.

“No.” Connor lifts the remote to pause the TV and puts on his best guileless expression. “I just really want to finish this.”

Glancing at the TV, Oliver smiles and walks over to sit next to Connor on the couch. “Babe, it’s a House Hunters marathon.”

“But it’s the international version.” Connor flicks the battery door of the remote open and closed. “Have you _seen_ the closets in Europe?”

Connor says nothing when Oliver gently reaches over to take the remote from his hands to turn off the TV and take Connor’s hand in his. Oliver’s tone is gentle and understanding when he says, “I don’t like it either.”

Connor squeezes Oliver’s hand. “When did she grow up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Remember when we brought her home?” Oliver just nods. “She was so little. Do you remember how little?”

“I do.” He rests his head on Connor’s shoulder. “Six-weeks early. She didn’t fit in any of her clothes. I could rest her butt right here.” He points to the crook of his elbow. “And her head fit perfectly in the palm of my hand.” Oliver looks down at his forearm, running a hand down it in awe. “ _God_ , she was little. We were so lucky.”

Looking down at Oliver’s forearm, Connor nods gravely in agreement. “Remember her first birthday party?”

“I thought her vomiting all over your aunt was the highlight of the day.” Oliver smiles, as memories come flooding back. “The time she tried to color in the grout on the fireplace.”

“What do you mean tried? She succeeded,” Connor says. “There’s still some red on there actually.”

“Really?” Oliver looks over at the fireplace along the wall. “Where?”

“Down, around the corner. Near the bottom.” Connor points and Oliver lifts his head to see. “I’ll show you later.” They settle back down in the couch and Connor wraps an arm around Oliver’s shoulder. “The month she kept stealing the neighbor’s dogs.”

“I still remember her trying to defend herself. ‘But Papa, they followed me home!’” Oliver chuckles at the memory. “We didn’t make any friends that month.”

“We made up for it by giving out full-size candy bars at Halloween,” Connor says. “Or the time she threw all her dolls into the tree to see if they could fly.”

“Of course I remember,” Oliver replies. “It took me forever to get all those things down.”

“She still talks about how you had to cut—”

“If she didn’t want me to have to cut her doll’s hair free from a branch, then she shouldn’t have thrown the damn thing up there in the first place,” Oliver says, a hint of lingering guilt in is voice. They are quiet a moment, then, “Teaching her to ride her bike on the hill.”

“Sledding down the hill.”

“The year she tried to learn the oboe.”

“God, my ears still hurt from that.” Connor winces in memory. “It really was just noise, wasn’t it?”

“She tried very hard,” Oliver simply says, ever the diplomat. “That terrible birthday when we let her have a sleepover party.”

Connor shudders at the memory. “I blocked that. How many girls were over here?”

“Ten,” Oliver answers, “It’s a miracle they didn’t burn the house down.” Another breath of silence, then, “Her first day of school.”

“First day of _high_ school.”

“When she got her learner’s permit.” Oliver’s tone is almost dreamy with the memory.

“I thought she was going to knock down every mailbox in the neighborhood on that first lap around,” Connor says.

“There were some close calls,” Oliver concedes. “And now,” he lets out a sigh. “Her first date.”

Connor plays with Oliver’s fingers interlaced with his. “I didn’t like him.”

“What was there to like?” Oliver shoots back and Connor grins. They’re quiet a minute as they both look back on the punk who rang their bell earlier tonight. “He did shake our hands. I’ll give him that.”

Connor nods. “He made eye-contact.”

“Didn’t talk over her.”

“Held the door open.”

“He wasn’t dressed too terribly.”

“Did he seem a little nervous to you?” Connor asks. “He seemed nervous to me. It was kind of cute—or it would have been if I wasn’t trying to be intimidating.”

“That was you trying to be intimidating?” Oliver lifts his head in question.

“Yes,” Connor answers with indignation. “What did you think I was doing?”

“I don’t know. But you weren’t very intimidating.”

“I was too!” Connor insists but Oliver just raises an eyebrow. “I was. I’m very intimidating. Ask anyone at the office. I’m very intimidating in the courtroom.”

“Of course you are, Connor,” Oliver says, tucking his head back on Connor’s shoulder.

“Shut up.”

Oliver chuckles and stands up. “Come on.” He holds down a hand.

“But I wanted to—” Connor gestures to the TV.

“We have a perfectly good TV upstairs. If you insist on staying up, at least do it up there.” At Connor’s hesitation, Oliver continues. “She knows when she’s supposed to be home and we trust her, remember?”

“Okay.” Connor takes Oliver’s hand and lets Oliver pull him up.

+

Later, they’re both still awake when they hear the garage door open and then close. Connor reaches for the remote to turn off the TV but Oliver stops him. “Just act natural,” he advises as they hear her climbing up the stairs.

They hold their breaths as she rounds the corner to her room to toss her purse on her bed (at least that’s what Connor assumes from the thump he hears), before doubling back to their room.

She lifts a hand to knock but then, seeing both of them still wide-awake, rolls her eyes. “You couldn’t help yourselves, could you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor says, turning back to the TV. “I always watch the news.”

“Yes,” Oliver agrees and glances back down at his tablet. “And I’m working on the crossword. What’s a seven-letter word for ‘Foul face’?”

Both of these garner an even bigger eye-roll. “You guys are so lame.” She heads into the room and crawls up on the bed between them like she used to do when she was younger.

Connor pauses the TV and Oliver sets his tablet aside. The three of them sit there in tense silence until Oliver can’t take it anymore. “So—do you want to tell us about it?”

She shakes her head a little and whispers, “Not yet.” But her smile is radiant and bright and Connor’s chest clutches at seeing it. Joy and terror and worry choke him and he frantically looks to Oliver.

“Okay,” Oliver manages, a wealth of emotions choking him as well. “You don’t have to tell us.”

“No,” her gaze darts between the two of them. “I want to tell you. Just not yet.” She turns back and her sigh is dreamy. “I just want—just want to keep it for a little while.”

“Okay.” Connor nods, trying to get a handle on what he’s feeling. “That’s okay. Whenever—whenever you want. We’re here.”

“Thanks you guys.” She turns around to give each of them a hug. “I’m gonna go to bed now.” She climbs down and turns back to wave a little as she heads out of the room. “Night. Love you.”

“Love you.” “Love you too."

Alone once again, they’re quiet as they listen to her walk down the hall and shut the door to her room. At a loss for what to do, Connor reaches to un-pause the TV and Oliver picks his tablet back up.

“Oliver—”

“I know.” Oliver reaches down to cover Connor’s hand with his and squeezes. “I know.”

Connor links their fingers together and his grip is firm as he blindly watches the news segment. He squeezes Oliver’s hand again as the realization floods him anew.

Their baby is falling in love.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/)


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